So...

It's just been one of those days.

"One of what kind of days?" one might ask, whilst looking at me as if I'm insane.

You know.

One of those days.

One of those days when you try in vain to get your schoolwork done, but by this time you're just so sick of your classes that you can't force yourself to look at Daughters of Anowa for one more second, so you try to work on your outline, but your thesis changes so often you have no idea what point you're trying to make because your topic is such a gray area, and then you try to read Buddhist scriptures but the very cover of the book makes your head hurt, so you spend far too much time talking to your best friend over Skype because she's just so much more pleasant than any of the above.

And then, you kick your own ass, because you wonder how the flying hell you ever could have considered being a Religious Studies minor, because you thought it'd be an easy way to get those pesky International Nonwestern credits, and now you hate the mere thought of religious studies and never want to take another religion class as long as you live. And you want so very badly to go back to those days in which your hardest assignment was making a topographical map of your own backyard, because that was just so much easier. You hate the very thought of your religion teachers, even though they aren't bad people, they're just not the best teachers, because one of them is so lovely but she just reminds you of a grown-up Luna Lovegood, and her assignments make your head hurt...and the other is one of the kindest, funniest, most sincerely good-hearted people you've ever met, but he is also the dangerous combination of being a vague lecturer and a harsh grader. So, you're not too happy about your classes right now.

Then you decide, well, since you can't make yourself work, you'll make yourself walk to Jo-Ann Fabrics and get those things you've been needing to finish making presents for your sorority Big, because you've been putting off that long walk for awhile now. And you do find what you need, if only barely, but you know you can make it work because you're creative like that.

But then what happens when you try to check out? Your card doesn't work. So you use a gift card, but that doesn't work either, the stupid machine just beeps at you as if scolding you. And you only have fifteen dollars cash, but your purchase is twenty-two dollars, so you end up having to borrow money from your friend (who just so happens to be a cashier at this particular store--finally, thank God, SOMETHING that works out in your favor). But it's so embarrassing you could cry.

Then you get outside only to discover that it's raining. Not a big deal, you think, because it's not raining very hard at all, your purchases are protected by a plastic bag, and it's only about fifteen minutes' walk from here to your dorm. But, guess what? During those fifteen minutes, it goes from raining very lightly to raining so hard you feel like you're drowning. And so you almost start crying as you walk, because it was so sunny and so pretty when you left and you were so happy to be outside, but now it's a rainy, icky mess and you feel like a rainy icky mess.

And the worst part of all? You were so happy, so confident, when you left, that you wore jean shorts. Cutoff jean shorts. Not Daisy Dukes, exactly--but not bermudas, either. Oh, and your Vagina Monologues cast t-shirt. And this year's concept for the shirt was just the word vagina, in roughly 20 different languages. So you are walking along the street in the rain, soaking-wet, carrying a plastic bag, wearing lipstick, shorts, and a t-shirt that says vagina in multiple languages. And yet it takes you awhile to figure out the concerned, amused, and suspicious looks coming at you from the passing cars.

This, my dear friends, is a textbook example of a really fucking bad idea.

So, let this be a cautionary tale. Next time, check the bloody weather, and make sure you always have cash with you. Just in case.

Oh, and one more thing...if your really smart friend tells you not to wear that Vagina Monologues t-shirt off-campus? Listen to her.